Since this was my second lavish full-court feast, I felt less preoccupied with the little things, with all of the social rituals around me.
I knew the drill now, and because I knew what my role was in all this, I had time to take in the intricacies of court dining that I had missed before. Since the food had yet to be served, I looked around.
I noticed little things, like how pairs of men and women milled about the room, leaning in to greet each other and be heard over the music and voices. How the younger ladies of the court tried to catch the eyes of the king and his men who sat up front. How the men started to dance more as their glasses emptied.
“Riveting, isn’t it?”
I had heard that voice enough times to know who it was without turning my head.
“Court is truly another world.”
I wondered if Richard would go away if I didn’t acknowledge him. Henley’s words were still fresh in my mind.
“My lady, you blow hot then cold. I don’t know what to do with you,” he said.
“What about nothing?”
He coughed as if he had gotten something caught in his throat, but I figured it was another ploy to get me to look his way. Pretending I was busy, I looked up at the second floor balcony that wrapped around the great hall. Tall candelabras the size of two men lit up the balcony so that it was aglow. In that lighting, I saw the musicians were perched on one side, while the other side was milling with more servers and people socializing. I thought I saw Lord Empson with his wife there, but I wasn’t sure.
“Ignoring me now?” Richard feigned hurt. “Cold. Very cold. Especially after I sent you flowers. . . . You tell me, aren’t women supposed to like that sort of thing?”
I turned to finally face him, but luckily I didn’t have to reply.
“There you are!” I had never been more thankful to have the countess swoop in. “We need to get you introduced to more . . .” She glanced at Richard. “To more useful people.”
Taking me by the arm, the countess led me around the perimeter of the room. It was so large and so full of people that one circle must have taken at least twenty minutes. During the whole time the countess didn’t even look at me, for she was too busy scoping the room as one would search for vermin.
“Be patient, Eleanor,” she said. “I can feel your angst from here.”
I wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was my angst or hunger, but whichever it was, I knew she didn’t want or care to know.
I heard the countess sigh next to me. “Oh, look who’s making her way toward us now . . .”
I looked up and, sure enough, Lady Sutton was headed our way, or rather, headed toward me. In a canary-yellow dress, she was unmissable, shoving people this way and that instead of moving herself around the crowds.
“Oh, Lady Eleanor! Lady Eleanor!” she called above the music and voices.
Random people looked over to see who she was calling, and I could feel my face turn pink.
“Good to see you here at supper!” Lady Sutton eyed me over. “I do wish you’d take to wearing brighter colors. Thankfully this crimson is a step up from the black you wore the other day. Not that black doesn’t suit you, but it makes it look like you’ve been spending too much time in certain people’s company.”
Lady Sutton smiled at the countess as if she had only just noticed that she was at my side.
“Anyway, I must go and say hello to the French ambassador. I’m told he’s brought lots of stories from the French court.” She gave me a nod good-bye, utterly ignoring the countess yet again. “Let’s have dinner again some other time!”
“That woman . . . That’s certainly some company you’re keeping.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the countess cut me off.
“It’s good, surprisingly. Lady Sutton is a pain, but she’s a pain with good connections. She’s ruined people with her gossip, so it’s better to keep her close.”
That old saying ran through my head: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
“She’s oddly refreshing,” the countess said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean that I enjoy her company.”
“And why do you find her refreshing?”
“Court is a place where you can’t trust everybody. There are cloaked snakes. Lady Sutton, on the other hand . . . there’s nothing cloaked about her.” She smirked. “But remember, even the Devil was an angel once.”
The last thing she said struck me oddly. Sure, people do hide who they are, but sometimes people really do just change. I suppose that was scarier in a way. Pretty soon, you look back and no one knows who you’ve become. You don’t even know yourself.
When we sat down to eat, I was pleased to see that Richard was, for once, nowhere near me. The countess sat across from me, while Lord Dormer and Sir Petley, who I had just been introduced to, sat on either side of me. Lord Empson passed the table but seemed to have thought better of sitting near the countess so soon after last night.
“Sir Gordon can’t stop talking about his latest conquest. That was all he would talk about when we played tennis today,” Sir Petley said, at which the table roared.
“I’m surprised he has conquests period, much less a latest conquest. I heard he has some sort of large festering wound somewhere on his body from battle.”
“How disgusting!”
“The part I can’t believe is that he plays tennis! Can that man even move?”
The table got louder as more wine was poured.
Seeing this sort of gossip as unseemly, the countess mainly kept to herself when others were making comments about the people at court. The exception to her silences was when Lord Dormer would make a comment. Then she was as giddy as the rest of them.
“Oh, Phillip,” she would say, before correcting herself immediately. “Lord Dormer.”
I saw that even a put-together woman like the countess got flushed at times.
“Lady Eleanor.”
I turned toward Lord Dormer, who was now pointing at a plate of meat decorated with cherries.
“Have some of the quail. It’s supposed to be one of the king’s favorites, and no visit to court is complete without it.”
I thanked him before he took my plate and began loading it.
“What about more venison?”
“Thank you, Lord Dormer, but I’m afraid I had a large dinner.”
“No matter. We need to make sure you have at least a taste,” he said. “More wine for the lady!”
I looked down at my goblet, expecting it to still be full. I could have sworn I hadn’t drunk that much.
“No need to be shy, my lady. Everyone loves the wine at court. Only the best for the king and his people.”
Another server filled up our glasses.
“To the fine wine and company!” Lord Dormer raised his glass, nodding to the countess. “Whoever said the French do it best has yet to see us!”
“Hear, hear.”
Sipping from my cup, I felt warm down to my neck. I closed my eyes. The music played on, swelling around us. People’s voices rose and slipped under one another’s, following the cadence of the violins. I tilted my head up to better hear them, and they swelled further.
Then there was a scream. It pierced through the music of the room. My eyes flashed open. They were met by the color of dark wood and bright candlelight.
It was one of the huge candelabras from the second floor. The whole thing was falling toward me. I couldn’t move. I didn’t have time. I clenched, squeezing my eyes shut. Every muscle in my body contracted, waiting for the moment of impact.
And waiting.
And waiting.
There was silence around me. The musicians had stopped. The voices had stopped. Hearing this, I opened my eyes. Slowly. One eye, then the other. Where was the impact? The candelabra was more than twice my size. With it falling toward my head—from the second floor no less—there was no way I could have survived it.
So was that it? Was this what death felt like?
Painless and silent?
With my eyes fully open, I looked around. I was still in the great hall. The food was still on the table. The musicians still held their instruments. But no one played or talked. Everyone was looking toward me. Not at me. But above me.
My body was trembling so hard, I could barely lift my head.
“Jesus Christ,” someone said. It was a whisper, but in the silent hall, it echoed as if everyone had said it together.
Jesus Christ indeed. The wooden head of the candelabra, still mostly alight with flames, was less than two inches away from my head. It was frozen in place above me, as if the whole room had been frozen in time.
No person could have caught the candelabra. No human could have stopped it.
“Henley.”
With a groan, the heavy candelabra tipped impossibly back and away from me. It fell to the floor away from people, where some ushers immediately doused the flames.
No one else moved, and for a lasting minute, not one person dared utter a word.
“My Lord.”
I watched as one by one the ladies and gentlemen of the court made the sign of the cross on themselves. Murmurs grew as people began to say a few words of prayer.
I looked at the face of the countess across from me. Her eyes were brimming with tears. Her lips moved, but wordlessly.
“Miracle,” someone breathed. And I suppose it was. Just not the sort of miracle that the people in the great hall thought they had witnessed that day.
“What in God’s name were you thinking?” I blurted out as soon as Henley and I were alone again in my room.
Funny you should use those words. God was probably on everyone’s mind today.
“This isn’t funny, Henley. Y-you crossed the line tonight.” I was conscious that I was erratically pacing the floor of the room, but I felt I would break apart if I stopped. “Do you know what could have happened in there? Do you know what you could have caused?”
I know exactly what happened in there. Henley’s voice was as smooth and unperturbed as I was distraught, and it made me pace even faster. I saved you. For God’s sake, without me stopping the candelabra, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation! You’d be dead!
“I know, but—”
No you don’t, Rebecca. Do you really think I can just stand there and watch you be killed?
“You could have done it some other way!”
Keep your voice down if you don’t want one of the maids to come in, Henley hissed, and I knew he was right. What other way was there? There wasn’t any time. I had to act.
“You acted in a way that brought so much attention . . . Even if I had tried to draw more attention, I don’t think I could have.”
So you wanted me to let that candelabra drop on you? Sorry for not abiding by your wishes. I’ll know better next time.
“You know I don’t mean that. It’s just . . . Now everyone knows.”
Knows what? He scoffed. That you’re somehow “blessed by God”?
“I don’t know what they think. But I do know that they don’t think I’m normal anymore. Any hope of me passing unnoticed, grabbing the clock, and going is pretty much shattered.”
So what?
“What do you mean, so what? You’re the one who always insisted on making this as simple as it could be—get it and go. This is as far from simple as you can get!”
The game has changed, Rebecca. That’s just it. The game has changed, and the rules have changed, but we’re still playing it to win.
“This is more than a game . . . this is my life.”
All the more reason we need to win.
“I don’t think you fully realize what the consequences are for what you just did. You not only put yourself in danger of being found out, but you also put me in danger. What if Miss Hatfield’s murderer was there in the room watching when you pulled that stunt?”
What then? It’s not like he could have seen me. Henley chuckled and I had never wanted to smack him more. And as for you, he’ll think that you’re some sort of blessed angel on earth. Or maybe even that you have superpowers.
Henley laughed, not caring who heard him. His voice reverberated in the room.
He won’t even touch you after that scene in the great hall. You should have seen yourself—you sat there with a halo of fire. Everyone was under your spell.
“And what about you?” If the attacker was in fact immortal, I feared he could do something to hurt Henley.
You really don’t have to worry about me. What could he do to me? Kill me? If only.
I knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but Henley’s words hurt. I loved him. I didn’t want to see him this way—without a body, with those thoughts in his mind. If only things could have stayed the way they were when we first met. Henley had no clue about immortality, time travel . . . even who I really was, but things were better that way. At least he was happier.
“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” I whispered.
Well, it is what it is.
SEVENTEEN
“ELEANOR! LADY ELEANOR!”
I jolted up in bed and held my head, cursing myself for sitting up too quickly. Light was streaming in from the windows. The sun was high—maybe eleven or noon? It had been a late night, and since the countess hadn’t mentioned we would be meeting anyone the following day, I had assumed I could sleep late.
“Eleanor, wake up!”
It wasn’t Helen’s voice. It wasn’t Joan’s either. As I listened closely, I realized that it was the countess.
The door blew open and the countess breezed in, closely followed by both Joan and Helen.
“Good. You’re up.”
I was about to make a snarky reply about how it was impossible to sleep through the ruckus, but seeing as it was the countess, I thought it better to hold my tongue.
“You need to get dressed immediately,” she said.
I slipped out of bed slowly, so as to not make myself dizzy again. “With the commotion you’re making, I’d think the entire palace was on fire,” I muttered.
“Nonsense. Helen, get out Lady Eleanor’s finest dress. The green one, I mean. Joan, you brought the jewels?” The countess stood in the middle of the room like a black pillar, instructing everyone to move around her.
I didn’t have a clue as to what this was about, but I figured the countess would have to tell me sooner or later.
“I’ve had brilliant news,” the countess said, turning to me. “And of course, I’ve already notified Lord Empson about this.”
I waited to hear what “this” was.
“A very great honor has been bestowed upon you, my dear girl. And on us.” The countess moved forward to clasp my hands. “After the spectacle last night, you are to see the king.”
She paused to wait for my response, but I didn’t know what to say or how to react.
“Well?” she said after a second. “What do you say to that?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
“I know it must be confusing. Especially to be chosen by God, out of the blue like that, but you must know that it’s your destiny. You can’t escape it.” The countess’s eyes glittered. “And the king . . . This is the king asking for you! Personally.”
“I guess I’ll have to go, then.”
“Now, listen to me,” she said. “When you first walk into the room, you will address the king as ‘Your Majesty,’ then subsequently as ‘sir.’ After the introduction, you will, of course, curtsey and lower your eyes. Curtsey again when he leaves, or when he dismisses you. I don’t suppose they teach you important things such as these in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania.”
“No, they don’t,” I muttered. “And when am I to be summoned to the king?”
“Right now, of course!”
“Of course . . .”
“Now hurry up! The king cannot be kept waiting!” The countess began pacing in the middle of the room.
I didn’t know whether that last comment was more for
me or Helen, who was struggling to dress me under so much stress. When she lifted the emerald dress over my head, I could feel her fingers trembling against the fabric. I wanted to say something to soothe her, but I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t want to get her in trouble with the countess.
The countess finally quit pacing and exited the room. She looked far more nervous than I was . . . and I was the one who was supposed to meet the king.
It all seemed strange to me. I didn’t know why the king wanted to see me in the first place. But it was doubtful that the king would not have heard about the occurrence last night, since everyone witnessed it. Maybe he thought it was some sort of witchery? Would they threaten to lock me up? In my mind, there was nothing to say about the incident—nothing I really could say. But I suppose he felt differently.
“Hurry!” The countess’s voice harped above the scuffle from outside the room. “The king’s footman is already here to escort you!”
“There you go . . .” Helen attached heavy earrings encrusted with pearls onto my ears. “You should hurry, so you don’t keep any of them waiting.”
I nodded my thanks and picked up my skirts to run to the sitting room. The countess and the footman both eyed me disapprovingly until I put my skirts down.
“Very well.” The countess clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her.
The footman nodded toward me, and I took that to mean I should follow him out the door.
He took unfamiliar turns and walked down hallways I didn’t know existed. Though it was the middle of the day, these hallways were dim, lit only by the occasional torch on the walls.
“Are we in some sort of underground tunnel?” I asked, but the footman didn’t look over his shoulder at me.
When we got to a particular door with guards outside, the footman signaled one of them. The guard to the right knocked, then slipped in.
“Lady Eleanor Shelton . . .” It was muffled through the thick wooden doors, but I heard him or someone else announce me.
The guard slipped out of the room and held open the door for me.
The Time of the Clockmaker Page 16